


Simply Irresistible

by sksdwrld



Series: Asterisk [15]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Kidnapping, lecherous thoughts, premeditated crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:34:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1345972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel picks himself up something for his birthday. An investment piece, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simply Irresistible

**Author's Note:**

> For writerverse.

I saw them as I was driving through West Haven on my way home from the Turkish restaurant I'd treated myself to for my forty-seventh birthday. She was dirty, emaciated, and half-clothed, stumbling along unsteadily. One thumb was stuck out for a ride while her other hand flapped at a small child whose golden hair shined like an angels. His little thumb was up too, and as I passed them, I stepped on the brake.

I wasn't in the habit of picking up junkies, but for another glimpse at that little beauty, I was more than willing to make a concession. 

The back door banged open and I was half a second away from snapping at the stupid cow's ignorance when she said, "Get in, Eli!" 

The boy clambered in and I adjusted my rearview mirror. He had wide, knowing grey eyes that met mine unabashedly. His cheeks were bright red with the sun and exertion and his hair was a windblown, silk-spun mess that I wanted to smooth in my palms.

The woman half-climbed, half-fell in after him, barely managing to pull the door shut behind herself. 

She said nothing as I looked at her. She could have been fourteen or forty, with lank, greasy yet dull strawberry-blonde hair and withered, paper thin skin. 

I turned my attention back to little Eli, who was petting her attentively. "Mama's sick," he said. 

"Do you need the clinic?" I asked her. 

"Just want a ride downtown." She grumbled. 

I pulled away from the curb, thinking about what prospects 'downtown' held for them. Drugs. Prostitution. Destitution. Crime. She was high, I could tell, and the thought of her sullying my upholstery was nearly cause enough to put her out. 

I glanced between the road and the boy, far cleaner than she. I asked if he knew his alphabet, and he did, reciting it in the sing-song way that children do. Then, he began to count. I stopped him at twenty and asked where he lived. 

Eli prattled off an address in Massachusetts, then told me his phone number. It was obvious that he was a bright child with a potential that was about to be wasted by his shit of a mother. Or maybe his sister; it was difficult to tell. Regardless, the situation made me sick. 

Licking my lips, I thought about what I could do for this child, with my resources and education. His talent, his looks, they would be wasted in the projects. If he grew up at all, it would be hard and it would turn him into another punk with an attitude. 

It occurred to me, that I was nearing a half-century in this world, and I'd spent most of it alone. My parents were dead, I had no partner, and no children. I wouldn't admit it to anyone I knew, but I was no saint. 

I liked them young. Not that young, I reminded myself, as I caught another glimpse of his baby-face and tiny fingers. In time, not even ten years, the boy would be just as beautiful, no doubt, but longer, leaner, lither. Just on the other side of puberty, we'd be able to have our fun... 

But there was no sense dreaming about it, was there? Not here. I'd have to wait until I got home. The junkie moaned softly and slumped against the door. For a moment, I entertained the wild thought that I could keep him, raise him, train him, cull him, teach him marvelous things until he was ripe for the picking. There would be no parents to tell, no neighbors to question why the boy who knows my lawn was moving past the porch and into my home. This boy could be mine. 

The more I thought about it, the less wild it seemed. As I pulled up to the curb, she shook herself out of her stupor and  cracked the door open. "C'mon, Eli." 

"Leave the boy." 

"What?" 

"Leave him, I'll take him home." 

She looked at him a long while and then eyed me with as much wariness as she was able to muster. I reached under the seat, coming up with a fifth of gin that I'd bought for my own personal celebration. She clutched it to herself and started at the seat, thinking.

I took out my wallet, pulled out all the cash, which amounted to forty dollars in assorted bills and passed them to her as well. "I'll take good care of your boy, Eli. I promise." 

She looked at him again, pulled him to her, kissed his head. "Be good for the man, baby. He's taking you back where you belong." 

"To Cookie's?" He said brightly. 

"Yeah, buddy. He's taking you home. Mama's gotta go, now. Be good. Love you." She slid from the car and walked away, her whole body shaking. 

My heart thudded in my chest and I waited to see if she would return for him. She didn't. Eli didn't seem affected by the loss of her presence. He just kicked his feet against the back of my seat and hummed softly. 

I put the car in gear and pulled back into traffic, my mind in a whir. As I got closer to home, I handed him my blazer and told him to hide beneath it, and giggling, he did. I drove into my garage and as the door came down I knew: I was home free.


End file.
